


The Back Seat

by Jasper Kirby (blakesaregrates)



Series: Sprace High School AU [3]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Chapter One is smut free, High School AU, I would apologise but honestly, M/M, Modern AU, Rated explicit because yup, Smoking, Smut, Swearing, Teen AU, YOU KNEW THIS WAS COMING, sprace, they have sex in chapter 2, this is the third part of my series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:00:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakesaregrates/pseuds/Jasper%20Kirby
Summary: Tony is reluctant to admit, but he's pining over a certain short boy from Brooklyn whose name rhymes with 'hot' (which he is). But then he's cornered behind the school and things get frisky in the back of a Toyota.(The final instalment in my series, following 'The Locker Room' and 'The Bleachers'. Smut is in the second chapter if you wish to keep your innocence. Rating is for gay newsboys being the gayest newsboys they can be.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this can be read as a standalone fic if you're just here for the smut, I guess. I'm writing this all at midnight so I apologise if it seems awful or rushed. I decided to finally finish the trilogy since you all wanted a thrilling conclusion.
> 
> This first part is really short, oops.

Ever since their secret, little rendezvous under the bleachers, Tony can’t help the ache and flutter in his chest when he passes Spot in the hallway. He thinks he’s got the blushing under control, but the stomach flipping? That’s still an issue.

Albert, ever the compassionate friend, has taken to calling him ‘Racetrack’, which the boys soon picked up on and started to join in with. It quickly got shortened down to just ‘Race’ which, as infuriated and embarrassed Tony was, he kind of liked it.

What he didn’t like was the uncertainty of it all. “ _This isn’t done,_ ” Spot had said. What did that mean? Tony assumed it meant that the other boy wanted to see him again. But when? Spot acted like he was still just one of the ‘Manhattan boys’ that his little gang didn’t associate with, which honestly kinda hurt. But not much, because they weren’t a thing. Why would they be? They hardly knew each other. Why was Tony so hung up on him?

He needed a cigarette.

It’s the end of the school day, and half the boys have an after-school club and the other half usually split up, some going back to the home and some staying out for a little while. Race usually had a smoke or two before making his way back at his own pace.

Apparently, fate had other plans.

Just as he was taking the final drag of his cigarette, a voice behind him startled him, making him cough on the smoke instead of enjoying it like he should’ve.

“It’s like we just keep bumpin’ into each other, Racetrack.”

Tony whirls around, glaring at the shorter boy that’s been preoccupying his thoughts since the weekend. “You took your time gettin’ back to me,” he grumbles, dropping his cigarette butt and stamping it out whilst folding his arms across his chest.

Spot fucking _smirks_. “Aww, did ya miss me, Racer?”

“No.”

The Brooklyn boy steps closer, and it’s either an invitation or a threat (and Tony can’t afford to just guess which one). “See, I think you did.” Tony swallows thickly as Spot takes another step towards him. “You think I ain’t seen the way you been starin’ at me in the halls? I ain’t blind, Higgins.”

Spot is dangerously close now, his rather broad chest puffed out as his shoulders roll back. Is he really trying to show off?

(Surely he knows he’s already won Tony.)

The taller boy’s eyes flicker from Spot’s to his mouth and back. Their faces are so close, and the moment seems right, and maybe they’re gonna finish what they started-

“Need a ride home?”

_What?_

“What?”

Spot steps back, rolling his eyes. “I said, do you need a ride home?” The fierce look in Conlon’s eyes that cause Tony’s stomach to jolt tells him that he can’t really say no.

His words catch in his throat so a frantic nod is the only answer he gives. It must work for Conlon because he’s dragging Tony by the upper arm to the parking lot behind the school, stopping by a surprisingly big car. Figures.

“Get in.”

He does.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp...here's the smut. Lowkey has a cute ending too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italian translations in the End Note!

The ride home is tense. Spot’s grip on the steering wheel is fucking scary. He also hasn’t asked Tony for any directions, which would seem creepy until the curly-haired boy realises they aren’t going in the direction of the home. In fact, he has no idea where they’re going, but he’d be damned if he’s gonna break the silence and say anything about it.

 

They continue to sit in silence, Tony watching nervously out the window to see where they end up. Spot pulls up into a parking lot, finding an empty place at the back where are there are no other cars. 

 

Looking away from the window and to the boy in the driver’s seat, the intense look in his eyes almost startles Tony. 

 

“Are we doin’ this?”

 

Tony frowns. “Doin’ what, exactly?”

 

His answer comes in the form of a strong hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer until his lips meet Spot’s. Or rather, his face smashes into the other boy’s. But fuck, it’s the hottest kiss he’s ever had (not that he has many to compare to).

 

The shorter boy pulls away, his eyes searching Tony’s face for his own answer. “ _Fottimi_ ,” Tony whispers, and with that, he’s lit the fuse. 

 

Somehow they scramble into the back seat, bodies pressed flush together, connected at the lips. The kisses are hot and wet and downright sinful, doing wonderful things to Tony’s downstairs brain and turning his upstairs brain to mush.

 

Spot is straddling him as they kiss, knees locked on either side of Tony’s hips, their crotches gyrating against each other. He can’t tell which one of them is more out of breath, but he knows that the strangled moan that echoes around the car, as the Brooklyn boy attacks his neck with kisses, definitely belongs to him.

 

One particular downward grind of hips has Tony gasping and bucking upwards in search of friction, and he hears Spot laugh against his neck before the sensation of having another fucking hickey sucked into his skin overwhelms him.

 

“Bastardo!” he cries, and even if Spot doesn’t speak Italian, he should definitely catch on to what he means. 

 

He sits up, grinning mischievously, but his hips don’t stop moving. “Sorry, Racer, I gotta let people know you’re not available.”

 

“The last one just faded,” he grumbles in response, before capturing Spot’s lips in another heated kiss.

 

From there, everything goes far too fast - there are strong hands fiddling with his jeans, cool fingers in the waistband of his boxers, muscular arms pushing him down onto his back and lifting his knees up. His jeans have disappeared somewhere, but he doesn’t have time to think about it before a hand on his dick turns his brain to static. He’s being jacked off, then there are surprisingly tender fingers poking at his entrance, cold and slimy, and then there are fingers _inside_ of him, stretching him open. They hit that magic button inside of him and he groans gutturally, hips pushing back insistently against those magic fingers. They’re removed before he can get that build up of pleasure. He lifts his head, bleary eyes seeing Spot tear a condom open with his teeth and slipping it on with ease. He feels pressure against his ass, and he gives a moan in response to the question “are you ready?”

 

Spot pushes in, and Tony whites out with pleasure.

 

Moaning, panting, the obscene sound of skin hitting skin. The windows have steamed up to the point where if anybody did walk past, they wouldn’t be able to see inside but they’d know exactly what was going on.

 

It’s Tony’s first time, so he doesn’t last very long. He cums all over his stomach, and honestly, he’s just glad it didn’t go on his shirt. Judging by the sounds Spot is making, followed by stuttering hips and a resounding groan, he climaxes pretty soon after Tony. He pulls out, leaving Tony feeling cold and empty. 

 

But then there are gentle hands wiping him off with tissues, helping him back into his jeans and pulling him up for a tender kiss. It’s the exact opposite of everything he thought he knew about Spot Conlon.

 

-

 

They don’t talk on the ride back to the home - apparently, Spot did know where he was going, but Tony is too tired to question why. This time, the silence is soothing. 

 

Perhaps Tony drifted off, but he wakes up to Spot opening the passenger door and gently shaking him awake. The shorter boy even walks him to the front door of the home.

 

Tony opens it, about to just head inside, when Spot surprises him even further and pulls him down for one more gentle kiss. It seems almost shy with how their lips barely brush at first, finally connecting with accompanying sparks and fireworks and all that jazz. It leaves Tony breathless.

 

“I’ll see you at school, Racetrack,” says Spot before giving him a genuine, charming smile and heading back to his car and driving off.

 

“ _Dio Mio,_ ” Tony whispers to himself, just about managing to resist touching his lips like a girl in a cliché movie. 

 

He turns around, and stood in the hallway, looking like he’s just seen a ghost, is Albert. And for once, he’s speechless.

 

Suddenly feeling like the king of New York, Tony grins at him.

 

“Cat got ya tongue, Albert?”

 

“You...Spot Conlon...huh?” is all the shocked boy can muster.

 

Tony grins even wider. “Yup.” With that, he walks past his best friend, up the stairs to his and Jack’s room (which is thankfully devoid of the latter boy) and drops down on his bed with a happy sigh.

 

-

 

“Hey, _Racetrack_ , what you got there?”

 

“Note. Found it in my locker.”

 

“Oooh! What does it say?”

 

“I’ve got a date with Spot Conlon.”

 

“You **WHAT**?!”

 

“Oh...hey Jack…uh, funny story…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it: we have reached the end of this little...thing. It's technically a series, but it's mostly just the lead up to smut. Whoops. 
> 
> If you wanna read anything else, leave a comment with requests. I'm currently in the Be More Chill fandom too, so I'll write most things for that. I always have writer's block so suggestions are always welcome.
> 
> Anyway, hope y'all enjoyed this mess. Have a good day.


End file.
